Camilla Ch. 098

The next memory that unconscious Camilla was reliving, in an out-of-body vision, was ten years before her incubi gang-bang predicament in the Montreal aquarium, when she was twenty-seven years old.One night in Toronto in mid-September, she and Cameron were at home, getting dressed and ready to go to a party held in a wealthy banker's large house.

Camilla had had her hair cut to go down to the bottom of her neck, and she used Nigrovum to change her blonde hair to a light brown; she also psychically changed her eye colour to brown, out of a wish for a different look that night. Her complexion was changed to tawny, and the rest of her body had its original colours. Not bothering to put on any underwear, she just wore a low cut, sparkly silver dress and black high heels. The front of the dress showed off a generous amount of cleavage, and the low-cut back came down a millimetre or so above where her anal cleft began. Her face was made up like a prostitute, as usual, and red nail polish covered up her black nails.

Cameron, also with black nails, paler skin, and blacker hair, wore a black tuxedo; he and his wife were hoping to find a lover--male or female--to heighten their pleasure after the party. They drove 8-year-old Eros to Emily's apartment to sleep over for the night. At Emily's open front door, Camilla bent down to kiss Eros good-bye--though she didn't need to bend very much, since he was an unusually big boy. Curious, he looked down her cleavage.

"Baby, I don't like it when you talk about him that way. He's your daddy; accept him." She looked firmly at him.

"OK," he said reluctantly.

"OK. Be good, and we'll come and get you first thing tomorrow." She kissed him on the forehead, which he enjoyed despite the 'latency' of his desire; then she straightened up and turned to face Emily. "OK, Emily, he's all yours." Eros started walking into her apartment.

"Bye, little buddy," Cameron said to him. The boy said nothing. Cameron looked down at his shoes with a pout. Emily closed the door with a frown, feeling sad for Cameron. He and Camilla walked sadly toward the elevator. "He still hates me."

"I'll talk to him tomorrow," she said as they got in the elevator.

****************

They arrived at the banker's house about thirty minutes later. As they walked around the large guest room, moving through a sea of people and hoping to find a suitable partner for their bed, Camilla saw Ted Weinstein.

"Ted! Hi!" she said, shaking his hand.

"Hi Camilla; good to see you again," he said. Turning to the man he had just been talking to, he asked, "Have you met Paul Shaw?"

"No," she said, looking at the tall, silver-haired, fifty-something man, and thinking him ideal to help her husband indulge his Candaulism with. "But you're the host of the party tonight, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," Paul said.

"This is quite a mansion you have here," Cameron said.

"Thanks," Paul said. "Being CEO of the Toronto headquarters of the Bank of Montreal makes it possible to live this way."

"Oh?" Camilla said. "Did you know a Patrick,...oh, I don't think I ever learned his last name. He used to work in your bank, in First Canadian Place. But he died about nine years ago."

"He'd have gone far in our company, but he often questioned the morals of how we make our profits."

"I see," Cameron said, himself doubtful of the morals of big bankers.

Stay and chat with Ted,Paul mentally told Cameron."I'm gonna chat with your wife a while, and you'll forget all about me."

Coming out of a brief daze, Cameron looked at Ted and said, "So, Garth Van Duyne won in the federal election. Isn't that amazing, the first Green Party Prime Minister?"

"It's unprecedented," Ted said. "And since I supported him, I have every confidence he'll lead the country in the right direction."

"Come with me, Camilla," Paul said, noting Cameron's being oblivious to him. "Let me show you around my home." Finding him very attractive, Camilla went with him out of the guest room, and away from all those people.

He took her up to the third floor, and into a large, more or less empty room. He left the door wide open.

"Why'd you bring me in here?" she asked. "There's nothing to see here."

"There doesn't need to be anything in here, for our purposes," he said, standing before her. He used his psychic powers to make her dress suddenly fall off. Before the now-naked woman could react, Paul seized control of her mind, making her barely able to move, except very slowly. She just looked at him with a dazed expression, her eyes and mouth agape. His eyes poured all over her body, ogling her tits and pubic hair, which he ran his fingers through. "So this is what the naked--well, Nigrovum-altered--body of Camilla Mennon looks like," he said. "CamillaFox, I should say, since you married that wimpy lump of a man. Still, his surname works well for you, since you sure are a fox." He took her by the shoulders and turned her around so he could see her pretty round buttocks. "Very nice." He patted them.

He then used his psychic powers to make her slip her feet out of her high heels and slowly walk around the room, allowing him to see her nakedness from all angles. She noted the wide-open door in terror, fearing the scandal of someone seeing her naked there, especially fearing that Cameron would come up looking for her, and find her in a sexual situation with Paul, all without Cameron's consent or involvement. After all, we must remember that her swinging with her husband was supposed to be a controlled adultery, and her publicly exhibitionistic days were supposed to be long gone.

Paul had put a psychic barrier all around their section of the third floor, drowning out the screams of fucking that would soon be heard within it, and ensuring that no one would interfere; still, he wanted her to be frightened enough to think they might be heard and interfered with. Indeed, he was blocking her own psychic abilities to the point that she didn't even know his barrier was protecting them from being caught.

Next, he made her get down on the floor on all floors, with her legs spread out so both her pussy and asshole were showing. She was facing the door, terrified that someone would walk by and see them. He knelt behind her and took off his shoes, pants, and underwear. He aimed his hard cock at her vaginal opening and slowly slid inside; though she was scared, her pussy was wet with the excitement of being terrified.

He pushed his cock all the way in, and when the tip poked against her A-spot, she let out a high-pitched squeal: "Ooh!" After a few more pokes, she gushed out some come.

As he continued fucking her pussy, he mentally communicated the following:The whole time period when you were teasing, and later fucking, my brother, I could feel your lust energy all over him whenever he was in the same room with me at the bank. Since your reputation has preceded you in many more cities than you would care to know, and since I wanted your lust-energy spread among my employees, to make them more obedient to my will, I psychically enticed a female bank teller among them, the slut of the staff, to lure Patrick into having sex with him one night.Camilla screamed in whistle register and came again, then Paul pulled his soaking wet cock out of her cunt and aimed it at her asshole. He used Nigrovum to lubricate the orifice and her rectum thoroughly, then he slid his cock inside slowly. She just moaned softly at the feeling of the widening of her asshole, and looked out that doorway, desperately hoping no one would come by and see them.

After Patrick's sexual encounter with the slut bank teller, her nymphomania was combined with yours,Paul continued as he thrust his cock in and out of Camilla's asshole.That tramp was soon fucking every male employee, and me, too. Of course, while the effect of Nigrovum made the others all my slaves, helping me steal from the masses and make a ton of money, I--knowing how to use Nigrovum's power--was able to convert your lust-energy into an energy of ambition, which is what all of us 'masked men' do. My power grew, and my staff, not at all knowing how to use the power, are now unquestionably compliant. Our bank now makes twice what it did before in profits, though the media keeps that all quiet, than to Ted's influence.

Camilla could only helplessly stare in terror at the wide-open door three feet in front of her, and hope her squeals weren't loud enough to draw attention from the other guests. He pulled his cock out of her ass after another two or three minutes of ass-fucking, then got up and went over to stand beside her. He turned the kneeling woman around to face him, so when she blew him, her face, in profile, would be visible from outside the room. He pushed the tip of his cock against her opening lips, and she--always under his psychic control--took his cock in and began caressing the shaft with her lips and tongue.

Thanks again for your help in getting us Greens voted into office,he psychically told her as his cock went in and out of her salivating mouth.Prime Minister Van Duyne is happy beyond words to be finally controlling the whole country, and you don't even know you helped us, since we always had you in a trance whenever you voted, or mentally prodded other people to vote for him. You didn't seriously think that all the boundless power of Nigrovum would be onlyyoursto manipulate, did you? A mere girl? Our people were exploiting this power long before you even knew you had it, though we had far grander goals than just to have an endless string of sexual conquests. Our men in Vancouver were using it even when you'd thought your seduction of Mark Grisham was all your doing. They, far more than you, were psychically making all that fucking happen with your elementary and high school teachers, and for the same purposes as my getting my brother to fuck that slut bank teller. I'm just curious: do you still think you're a goddess? Don't make me laugh.

*****************

Since Cameron had been having sex with Camilla for a couple of years now, he too had lots of Nigrovum in his blood; and he could vaguely sense the sexual excitement--and fear--his wife was feeling.

"Excuse me, Ted," he said to the media man, who had been deliberately stalling him with verbose conversation. "I want to go look for my wife. Where is she?"

"Oh, I'm sure she's in good hands with Paul, don't worry," Ted said, trying to keep from snickering at what he knew was really happening in that room on the third floor. "But if you want to go find her, I understand."

"Thanks. It's been nice talking to you," Cameron said. "Bye."

"Bye," Ted said.I'd love to be a fly on the wall and see your reaction to what Paul's doing with her,Ted thought with an eerie grin.

Cameron left Ted, found the stairs, and went up to the second floor, sensing that he was getting closer to wherever Camilla was, but still not getting a clear enough psychic signal as to where exactly. He kept looking around.

*****************

Camilla was aggressively and frantically sucking on Paul's cock, hoping to speed up his excitement and make him come soon; maybe then he would finally release her, and she could get dressed and return to her husband. She had her wet lips tightly wrapped around Paul's shaft, and her tongue licked, flickered, and vibrated against the sensitive underside of his cock. She looked up at him with a slutty look in her eyes, hoping that would turn him on more, while hoping no less that her husband--whom she sensed was coming up and looking for her--wouldn't catch her with Paul. She gently shook his balls in her hand.

Finally, Paul was about to blow: he pulled his cock out of her mouth and came all over her face. It hit her on the nose, in her right eye, on her left cheek, on her lips, and on her chin.

"Thank you, Camilla," he said as he went over and got a handkerchief out of his pants. He wiped her come off his groin area, then licked it all off the handkerchief. "Don't want to miss a single drop, not a single microscopic black egg, right Camilla? You are definitely as good as your reputation informs us. I'm sure I'll get much more powerful now with Nigrovum coming directly from you, who have developed your own talents with it. Now, those talents are mine." When he finished drying himself off and licking the handkerchief off, he put his pants, underwear, and shoes back on. "OK, baby, get back on all fours." She was mentally forced to obey.

He got behind her and began licking all her come off her pussy. He sucked it all off her labia and clitoris, then stuck his tongue as far inside her cunt as he could reach; he used Nigrovum to lengthen his tongue so it could reach all the way to her A-spot and lap up every drop of her come.

She was getting excited again, but also increasingly afraid, for she could sense Cameron finishing his search of the second floor, and his plan to go up to the third floor and search there. She mustered all her will to counter Paul's blocking of her so keep her own desire under control, so she wouldn't come again, and further lengthen this dangerous sexual encounter.

When he'd finished lapping up all her come, Paul psychically shortened his tongue to its original size and pulled it out of her pussy. Then he got a small jar and scoop out of his left blazer pocket, and shovelled all her come, which was in a blob on the floor between her legs, into the jar.

When he was finished scooping it all up, he put the jar and scoop back in his blazer pocket, got up, and said, "Good. That will be of invaluable use in our rituals. Thanks again, Camilla. You've been so helpful to us." He then put his hand into his right blazer pocket and pulled out a grotesque mask, like those worn in ancient Greek comedies, just like the ones the Satanists wore in the mansion on Grouse Mountain in Vancouver. He put the mask on the window sill. He left the room, leaving the door wide open and giggling to himself. She just looked over at the mask and tried to gasp in terror, but couldn't, for she was still under Paul's psychic control.

Suddenly, she felt herself forget who he was, what he'd said to her, and what he looked like; now she was even more scared. Still with her mental block, she tried to get up and reach for her clothes, but she could move only very slowly. She sensed Cameron approaching the stairs leading up to the third floor.

As Paul went down the stairs to the second floor, he saw Cameron coming up. "Excuse me," Cameron asked him, having been made by Paul to forget having met him. "Have you seen my wife by chance? She's a short, young woman, with short, wavy light brown hair, and wearing a silver dress?"

"Well, I think I saw a woman of that description up on the third floor somewhere, though I don't think she was wearing a silver dress," Paul said, passing Cameron and making him forget that second meeting with Paul. He also removed the psychic barrier, so Cameron could freely enter every room and eventually find Camilla.

Bent over, Camilla desperately tried to put her dress back on as fast as she could, which was still extremely slow. Paul's come was still dripping off her face and onto the floor, and she sensed her approaching husband. At that point, she had only her feet in the dress, and it was pulled up to her knees; her bare ass was pointing at the wide-open door.

Cameron walked by the room, looked in, and saw her. "Camilla," he said, unsurprised to see her naked, since he'd sensed her sexual excitement from before; he also sensed her fear. "What happened?"

Suddenly, she could move normally again, since Paul had finally released her. She quickly pulled her dress up and put on her shoes. Getting some tissue out of her purse and wiping her face with trembling hands, she said, "Cameron, I can explain." The sight of the mask on the window sill made her already-racing heartbeat seem to double in speed. "The man who just went downstairs forced himself on me. I never consented to the sex with him, I swear."

"What man?" Cameron asked. "I don't remember anyone."

"Honey, he made you forget," she explained, having got essentially all of Paul's come off her face, with most of her makeup. "He mademeforget who he was. You know that psychic power I have, the one I passed on to you and to Eros? Well, other people have it too, and not just my former lovers. Bad people have it."

"Who?" Cameron asked. Never angry about his wife having sex with another man, since his low self-esteem made him almost welcome further cuckolding, Cameron was now getting worried from the fear he sensed in her.

"Remember the story I told you once about masked men in a mansion? Well, look atthis." She handed him the mask from the window sill. "Those bastards must have come here from Vancouver and found me using their psychic powers. I thought Candice and I had killed them all, but we were wrong, apparently. They must want revenge for our killing their friends. He was saying something to me as he was raping me, but he made me forget it all; all I know is it was terrifying to hear. Anyway, I'll bet their numbers have grown, and I'll bet they use this mansion, and maybe other ones, to continue their Satanic bullshit. All those times that I've been terrorized at York, being masturbated to orgasm, right in my classrooms, or forced to get naked and fuck in front of my classmates? It must have been the masked men. I'd always thought that it had been the incubi who used to torment me in my dreams; maybe it's both the living and the dead masked men. Who knows for sure. I don't remember who I was just with, but this mask tells me a lot. They're so bold with their power, those masked bastards; they're even telling me it's them."

"Can't you do anything? Can'twedo anything?" Cameron asked.

"I've tried putting up psychic barriers, and they work for a while; I won't be attacked by them for several months, but they'll break through eventually. What do they want? I never listened to Ravinder's and Daddy's warnings, because they sounded like just a bunch of crazy conspiracy theories. Were they right? I don't know. Sometimes I try to communicate with Dr. Singh and Daddy, but I get blocked. Before I thought it was the incubi blocking me; maybe it's been the masked men. Again, maybe it's both--I can't be sure."

"What will we do?"

"Cameron, we've gotta move; as soon as I get my doctorate, which should be next year--fuck, that's so long to wait!--we've gotta leave Toronto. Hopefully, those Satanic bastards, if it's them, won't find us. Maybe the ghosts' psychic power is enough to produce a mask out of thin air. If it was the ghosts who made me get naked and fuck in front of my classmates, I guess anything's possible. But then again, the idea that it's living masked men sounds more believable, if much scarier. Anyway, we've gotta make really strong psychic barriers to protect us in the meantime. We've both got to make those barriers together, to make sure they're as strong as possible. Then, as soon as I get my PhD, we're leaving Toronto."